Clare
I stared at Joss as he stood beside the bed.
Our bed.
No.
Not ours.
It had belonged to Arielle for four years.
But tonight, for the first time, I had something I had wanted since the moment I discovered he was my mate.
I had him here.
In the room.
Beside me.
And Arielle was gone.
I could still see the conflict in his eyes.
The guilt.
The hesitation.
He was thinking about her.
Of course he was.
Arielle was always there.
In every photograph.
Every memory.
Every part of this house.
She had four years of history with him.
I had nothing.
Except the bond.
I slowly reached for his hand.
“Joss.”
His eyes met mine.
“I know you’re hurting,” I whispered.
His expression tightened.
“I’m hurting too.”
That made him look away.
I squeezed his hand gently.
“I don’t want
